Chickadee
A bird succumbed by its family,
With a dainty little song
They survive natures winters
They survive through it all
So I wonder about this chickadee
Which visits me
And I wonder what a coincidence it may be
That I’ve never had birds
Or even heard them sing
For before, I had bird seeds,
Uneaten and clean
And now with abundance,
There’s always a mess
And a song, and a dance
While I drink my coffee
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